


Reaper Landing

by Nebulad



Series: Sea of Stars [27]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Menae, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-29 18:19:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8500255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nebulad/pseuds/Nebulad
Summary: “Everybody hit the ground now,” Garrus shouted, and because it was a building full of turians they did what they were told. The glass windows exploded into crystal powder and the deep bellow of the Reaper’s ship made Garrus’ plates vibrate from under his desk. He realised a few things all at once, the least of which being that he was now responsible for the lives of everyone in the building that was probably coming down pretty soon. With a Reaper standing outside.He hoped wherever Shepard was, she was faring better.





	

Menae was too quiet. Every blast of a bomb or groan of a laser, every steady ticking of a gun firing as fast as it could release just seemed to underline how silent everyone had gone. Palaven in the sky may as well have been only two feet from everyone’s heads, and the movement of armour as people kept looking up to just watch it hanging there was louder than any voice in the camp.

Faust had thought it was a pretty planet in the times she’d been there. Even from a distance it was a shade of green that promised life, and now with the twisting orange flames cutting through the surface… she thought it looked a little blue. It was her imagination, she knew. There would never be enough blood to make the entire surface blue but…

She was thinking it, anyway.

It wasn’t a constructive thought, but nothing currently going through her head was even remotely useful. Her own breathing seemed deafening through her mask, and not even Vega had anything to say— he’d stayed nice and quiet ever since the shuttle where he’d tried to pep talk her and Liara. Faust had informed him in a voice less threatening and more watery that he could shove his fucking _go team._ Liara was kind enough to explain to James that they had a _dear friend_ who as far as they knew, was Reaper mush.

Faust searched the face of every turian she saw anyway.

. . . . .

Garrus was at his desk when the Reapers hit. The Primarch had started taking his work _deadly_ serious ever since news of Khar’shan had hit the galaxy, which meant that his place in the Hierarchy had suddenly jumped several uncomfortable spots. He’d gone from a civilian with special clearance towards something a bit higher than a General— still below a whole lot of people, but suddenly allowed into the big fancy buildings where records and census information was kept.

He had military numbers waiting for him over in the special rooms where he had to read them under surveillance. He’d stopped at his desk to grab some water— once he got locked in he was stuck for a few hours— and happened to look up at the right time. The building shook and a few people scoffed like a particularly bad pilot was using the landing pad upstairs.

Garrus knew better.

“ _Everybody hit the ground now,”_ he shouted, and because it was a building full of turians they did what they were told. The glass windows exploded into crystal powder and the deep bellow of the Reaper’s ship made Garrus’ plates vibrate from under his desk. He realised a few things all at once, the least of which being that he was now responsible for the lives of everyone in the building that was probably coming down pretty soon. With a Reaper standing outside.

He hoped wherever Shepard was, she was faring better.

. . . . .

Faust decided, in the end, not to ask General Corinthus if he knew anything about Garrus. As long as she didn’t have bad news, he was Schrödinger’s Boyfriend— there would always be a slim chance that he was alive and hadn’t been taken out trying to shuffle civilians to safety, because that was _exactly_ how he would go and Faust could picture it second by second in her head and it made her sick at the same time she was ferociously proud.

 _We were_ right _Garrus. We were right, we were right, we were right._

She distracted herself by getting the comm tower back up and running so Corinthus could find her a turian to haul off this moon. With the Primarch she could win the krogan and buy Sparatus… and maybe finally see what it was like to have the _support_ of a council member, provided he didn’t stab her in the back. She had a lot to do before this was over and didn’t have time to deal with two-faced politicians with no spine or soul to speak of.

Even Corinthus was dragging his heels, though. Nothing Faust had ever wanted had happened quickly, and this whole Primarch thing was a mess. It was her luck to deal with the turians, the only goddamn species in space where the most important person wasn’t sitting behind front lines like they ought to be. “The Hierarchy is in chaos,” they were told upon their return. “So many are dead or MIA that it’s nearly impossible to tell who holds what rank.”

“Look just hand me whatever fucking turian you’ve got handy. There’s summits and all sorts of shit I’m sure all of you are perfectly qualified to handle— hell, call dibs now and I’ll cart _you_ off this fucking moon, just _find me someone,”_ Faust all but snarled. She wasn’t a politician. Anderson should have gone _with_ her, fuck the Earth. He was the pep talker, the one who _knew_ how to deal people without starting an intergalactic incident. She was just tired and miserable and wanted to go back to her ship and hate the world for being so fucking unfair. Anderson didn’t have her selfishness.

“You know, at first I didn’t believe it was you—” Faust’s whole body seized up like she’d been electrocuted, “—but you just can’t _find_ that kind of interspecies diplomacy anywhere else in the galaxy.” Garrus paused in front of her, his rifle clutched in his hands as if he were afraid to put it down. “Except maybe Tuchanka,” he finished.

She trailed off into the sort of curses that her father let loose when she was four and a ship full of turians had landed on Mindoir to restock. She shoved her shotgun at James and Garrus frowned. “Shepard,” he warned, but put down his rifle. He expected it this time, when she leapt at him— he didn’t even fall like he had on Omega when she’d fought her way up to him. “You know some of these people respect me,” he scolded.

“Not anymore,” she assured him, trying to fit her arms all the way around his carapace. “I thought you were dead, asshole,” she snapped at him.

“You know me: hard to kill. Besides, Earth got hit first. I have _days_ of worrying on you,” he murmured at her.

“Vakarian, sir. I didn’t see you arrive,” the general said, snapping to attention even with Faust koala hugging the person who was _apparently_ his superior. She was certain that was a new development, but didn’t ask— unless he was the Primarch it didn’t matter. Garrus nodded in return, sage and authoritative despite his human chestplate..

“That’s not fair,” she said, sliding off of his torso. Their armour clanked together like sloppy teeth during a kiss (a human kiss, anyway), but Faust was on fire. She had her partner back, and it was like someone reattached a limb she didn’t realize she’d been missing until she tried to reach for her gun. “People calling you _sir._ The only person to call me ma’am since I got arrested was James.”

“Shepard, I did wander over here for a reason,” he reminded her. She almost deflated— in her blind elation that he was _alive_ and she didn’t have to identify his body and try to remember what the last thing she said to him was, she’d all but forgotten what she was there for.

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I’m focused,” she said, which was never _completely_ true but he knew that. “What’ve you got for me Vakarian?”

“I’m here to find you your Primarch,” he said, grabbing his gun again. He was grey knuckled on it and she felt the rush of misery all over again. She _knew_ what it was like to lose a homeworld, to look back at a planet and see it burnt beyond all fucking recognizability. Mindoir had been years ago, but flame was flame and blackened cities turned to ashes all the same.

They both noticed at the same time that Corinthus was still standing at attention. “At ease, general,” Garrus said, tilting his head a bit. “How are things here?”

“We’re holding sir,” Corinthus reported, but his sub-vocals didn’t seem particularly confident about that. “We’ve got enough supplies to last another few weeks, if we start rationing a bit more strictly. I’ve already given the order.”

“When did you leave Palaven?” Faust asked, only realizing afterwards that it was probably a shitty thing to ask. When Mindoir had fallen she’d gnashed her teeth at the implication that she’d abandoned the place, or that she was better off evacuating it.

“As soon as the military moved out. If we lose this moon then we lose Palaven.” He’d repeated this, evidently, more than he would have cared to. She wondered if he’d had to reassure the troops or himself. “I’m the closest damn thing we have to an expert on the Reapers, so I’m… advising.” That was actually a relief— she’d been afraid _he_ was her Primarch.

His eyes moved to James, the only unknown on the team. She had a habit of picking up strays and mercs and all sorts of fun and interesting and dangerous people from all over the place— it made sense that he wanted to know who he was dealing with before he handed over the turians’ last hope. “James this is Garrus Vakarian,” she said, and he nodded.

“You don’t hear stories of Commander Shepard without hearing about Vakarian,” he said, reaching out to shake Garrus’ hand. “Lieutenant James Vega, Alliance Military.”

“Lieutenant. Good to see you too, Liara,” he added, nodding at the asari doctor.

“In one piece, even,” she said, her smile betraying her change in demeanour. “Not to cut the reunion short, but I believe we are on a fairly tight schedule,” she added. Faust was grateful she didn’t aim the jibe at the one in charge (namely, her).

Garrus nodded. “I was briefed when I arrived at the camp, and I know who we’re after.”

“Palaven Command names General Adrien Victus as the next Primarch,” Corinthus said, bent over his notes.

“Okay. Can you put a face to him?” she asked Garrus.

“I was fighting with him this morning,” he said, and it tugged at her in a way that she was really going to have to dissect later. The thought of him fighting for _that_ long was _deeply_ unsettling, which was… weird. They were both soldiers and she _knew_ Garrus kicked ass, but…

 _Later. Think about it later._ She wondered if he was gunna follow her back to the Normandy, but filed that one away too. She couldn’t focus if she thought he was going to insist upon being left in Reaper territory to fight. She’d already left Anderson behind.

“So is he a good choice?” she asked.

“Lifelong military. Gets results, popular with his troops. Military command likes him… less. He made a reputation for himself playing fast and loose with accepted strategy— letting rival armies tire themselves out fighting each other before moving in to finish them all off, stuff like that,” he explained.

“Careful now Garrus, I’m getting a bit warm under the collar here,” she teased.

“You’ve got a type, Shep. Primarch Victus… that’ll be something to see,” he mused, looking out over the fortifications. “He’ll do whatever it takes… like a Spectre I used to know.”

“Don’t you sweet talk me out here… unless you’re talking about Blasto, in which case you’re a fucking _liar_ and have never met Blasto.” Garrus’ mandibles flexed and she was a little galled by his nerve— all well and good for her to flirt with him in front of the ranks, but for him to grin like that?

“So we just have to track him down.” Corinthus was either oblivious to the break in decorum or ignoring it with _spectacular_ dedication.

“ _Commander?”_ Joker’s voice was tinny over her omni-tool, suffering from severe interference. _“Something’s messing with our systems and EDI’s acting… weird. She can’t fix it and I’m not entirely in control at the moment.”_ He sounded like he was struggling.

“Garrus, you were fighting with Victus this morning?” Liara asked. He nodded. “Then if you could kindly take my place I can go solve whatever technical issues the Normandy is having.”

“On it,” he said, turning to Shepard. “I lost contact with him when he went to bolster a flank that was breaking. He could be anywhere by now.”

“We’re trying to raise him, Commander,” Corinthus said, absorbed in the effort.

“How lo—”

“ _Harvester!”_ The cry went up from the fortifications and shots started firing all around her. She looked at Garrus, who just nodded. She grinned and gestured to Vega.

“We’re gunna fuck this thing up, then we’re gunna find the Primarch. Let’s _go,_ people.”

**Author's Note:**

> [My writing blog is here](http://nebulaad.tumblr.com), happy n7 day. Also isn't it wild how the ladies of Andromeda are all vampires so they don't show up in trailers. Crazy right. I'm not bitter or anything.


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